


Which One Of Us Is Really The Monster?

by MacabreMoose



Series: Supernatural and Teen Wolf Crossovers [2]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Gen, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Mostly Gen, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27839872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MacabreMoose/pseuds/MacabreMoose
Summary: “Okay, Obi-Wan, cut the crap.” Dean responds, drawing out his words in a mock exaggeration. “Every frickin’ werewolf is the werewolf that we’re looking for, and which,” He points straight at the werewolf kid, “Clearly includes you.”
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: Supernatural and Teen Wolf Crossovers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2037808
Kudos: 85





	Which One Of Us Is Really The Monster?

The kid - and he can’t be more than seventeen or so, Sam guesses, feeling a flicker of guilt at that - is well and truly tied up. Or at least, he hopes so. It’s not so easy to deal with pureblood wolves, especially as there is next to nothing on the subject as far as Sam knows. 

The type of werewolf that most hunters are familiar with are the feral ones. Blood, screaming, maiming… 

Doubt nags at the back of his mind, as Sam recalls Madison and whatever knowledge that he has gathered over the years on the subject of werewolves. It feels like he’s missing something, like he’s not seeing the whole picture.

He thinks that these kids might be different.

For one, most werewolves can’t control the shift, but from what little that he and Dean could dig up, these ones appeared to have the ability to do so. 

Then there was the general lack of hearts, or organs, being eaten.

On one hand, that could be a sign that maybe these wolves were not monsters, but Sam had the sinking feeling that it could also allude to the fact that this meant that the local wolf pack were predators. More dangerous. They were not mindless creatures, that much was clear.

From the werewolf that they had managed to capture, Sam could observe the signs of something dangerous lurking within. The casual ease that the kid displayed, the nonchalant attitude that Sam somewhat suspected was a mask. The awareness of his condition and the lack of disgust or fear attached to it.

There was something not right about this town.

Sam bites down on his lip to prevent any words of protest from spilling out when he straightens and stands motionless in one corner of the room as Dean goes to interrogate the werewolf. He clamps down on the unease, letting the soldier part of him overtake his features.

“Where’s your pack?” His older brother barks, and Sam grimaces at the harsh tone.

Amber eyes glare balefully back. “What pack?” The kid drawls, and a hint of Californian accent slips in. “A battery pack?”

Outwardly, Dean doesn’t react, although Sam can see the small curl of his lips dip upwards, displaying the barest hint of amusement. Dean’s still playing the bad cop though, so he retorts with a low growl that ironically sounds more wolf than man in itself, before adding, “I’m starting to get pissed.”

The werewolf leans forward, and Sam tenses in preparation as he spies the clever shift of silver handcuffs being fiddled with slowly behind the kid’s back. He doesn’t say anything yet though, still curious to see where this goes.

“We’re not the werewolves you’re looking for, dude.” 

Dean rolls his eyes, and leans forward threateningly. Abruptly, he snaps his fingers in front of the werewolf’s face, and Sam can’t help but notice the way that the kid flinches at the sudden movement. Or perhaps it was the close proximity to the sound itself. 

“Okay, Obi-Wan, cut the crap.” Dean responds, drawing out his words in a mock exaggeration. “Every frickin’ werewolf is the werewolf that we’re looking for, and which,” He points straight at the werewolf kid, “Clearly includes you.”

He pauses, before adding smugly, “And I got some nice, fresh silver bullets just for you. So you better start talking.”

For some reason, amusement flashes over the kid’s face at that, and Sam frowns. There’s something not quite right here. 

“Oh, no need for presents. It’s not even my birthday.” The werewolf replies snidely, and damn, the kid really has a mouth on him. Not that Dean was even in the mood to appreciate it anyway.

Yeah, Sam was right. Dean wasn’t. 

Sam hides a pained wince as his brother’s fist slammed into the werewolf’s face. The crack of bone fills the motel room and the kid swears, blood pouring down his undoubtedly broken nose. 

But even as Sam watches, the blood tapers off quickly enough. _Advanced healing_ , right. 

It seems that Dean had caught on to that fact as well. His older brother pauses, and a blank mask shutters over his face even as he continues his interrogation. Dean might pretend that he was fine, but Sam knew otherwise.

If there was one thing that never changed, and even more so after Hell, it was this part. Dean always hated this part. Sure, John might have trained them to have a strong stomach, and yeah, their exposure to all this had basically desensitised them to the darker side of the job, but there was always an even stronger part that didn’t quite sit well with all this.

Killing the creatures was supposed to be impersonal. Getting rid of the bad guys to save lives. Quick and clean kills.

But drawn-out suffering and pain? That didn’t feel right. Most of the time, they lived by the motto of _the ends justified the means_. If it had been his brother’s life at stake, then Sam had no problem getting his hands dirty, and he knew that this also was true vice-versa.

It was different this time. For one, this was a kid. Secondly, they didn’t know for sure whether the kid was evil. Had he killed people? Was he one of the bad monsters? For all they knew, the kid could be like Lenore or Benny.

It was especially during these times that Sam found himself wondering about who was really the monster.

With each cut and slash, Sam retreats deeper into himself. He watches the blood dribble downwards, hears the small grunts of pain and sees the flash of fear in the werewolf’s eyes. He feels sick.

Unable to stop himself, he puts a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder, and Dean stops immediately, stepping backwards.

The kid spits out a mouthful of blood straight into Dean’s face.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a Tumblr Post.


End file.
